


Contemplation

by paperdollkisses



Category: NSYNC
Genre: Drunkenness, Loneliness, M/M, Snow, mild depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperdollkisses/pseuds/paperdollkisses





	Contemplation

The lights of the Christmas tree and the flicker of the fire light made interesting shadows in the corners of the room. The low roll of Christmas music soothing and sad at the same time. There was something nice about the sadness too Chris thought. It wrapped around him, holding on tight. Not quite cold enveloping his body, more of a tepid he mused. He studied his feet as they rested on the smooth wood of the coffee table. He took a long swallow from the bottle in his hand, feeling the tepid warm a little more.

“Under those socks are some seriously ugly toes.” he mused aloud. His voice jarringly strange to his ears. “Well at least toes only a mother could love.” he smirked and raised the bottle. “To my toes.”

The quiet settled again and he took a deep breath as the cd changed in the player. He really shouldn’t be feeling this melancholy. It was Christmas he told himself. Happy shiny santa time. He tried on a smile and found it didn’t fit. Chris had sent his family to Ireland for Christmas. It had been his mothers biggest dream for as long as he could remember. She had been once when she was a child and loved it. Then circumstances had prevented her from going back. He had to swallow those memories away with another drink from the bottle. But he had given his mom the most precious gift ever and it felt good. His sisters had been torn about wanting to go, but in the end the air of mystery he had created when he wove stories about the country had won out.

They had of course been sad when he said he wasn’t going. But he... he hadn’t felt like he could keep up the charade over Christmas. He needed time. He needed peace. So Chris had rented a cabin in Vail. Had food supplies, alcohol, a tree and trimmings, and anything else the people thought he’d like delivered. Packed his bag with warm clothes, x-box and cd collection and headed out to the wilds of Colorado. Well not so wild, he was in Vail after all. But he was securely isolated from anything or anyone, and finally he could brood and be melancholy and nostalgic all he wanted. He drank again out of the bottle, enjoying the burn and warmth that spread through him. He squinted at the lights on the tree. Without his glasses and with almost six beers in him it was like a big tree shaped lightbulb. He smiled, contented for the moment. Setting the empty beer bottle on the table beside him, just barely missing the edge and hearing it thud on the carpet below. He gave a silent thanks to the dumbass he had cursed earlier for putting throw rugs over the beautiful pine floors.

Chris debated on the merits of getting another beer versus needing a map to find the kitchen and his way back.

“Nexssxt year a cooler... or maybesssssssss a rope tied up to the door handle.” he slurred slightly as he nodded. “Why am I the only onesssss to think of thesssse thingssss?” he tapped his forehead. “Caussssse ’m the brainss that’ssss why!” he cackled, actually cackled “Ssssssossss what’re we doin’ ‘night braiiiiiinnnnnnnnnn.?”

He leaned his head back on the cushions. Nice and warm now. His bladder was a little full too. He wondered which way he’d have to go to get to the bathroom. Chris thought that was a little too much thinking to do right at this very moment and there was a perfectly good tree right outside the door over there. He made his way to the patio doors, by the time he had figured out the door locks he was all but bursting and really didn’t care about the cold. He just had to pee. The good thing was he was close to the fridge now. He slammed the patio door closed, forgoing the locks in case he needed to pee again. Then opened it again.

“Hey yousss out there... watch out for the yellow ssssssssnow... ssss’ok?” he laughed again, the high pitched laugh of a drunken man. Then shut the door again.

He grabbed the carrier for the beer and filled it, and grabbed snacks before he went back towards the couch, dropping half the bags of chips on the floor. He sat down and looked at the stuff on the floor. “Good thoughtssss like bread crumbsssss or ssssomesing.” he nodded and twisted the cap off a beer.

He was mellow he thought. Chris thought mellow was for weenies. But he didn’t have the energy to get up and jump on someone’s back right now. In fact he thought, his breath coming out in a sigh, there was no someone at all. It was part of the problem. He had been a huge success with NSYNC. Huge. He had money, fame, the best friends a guy could ask for. Thousands of little girls screaming his name... and everyone else’s. But mostly his. He was old and liked to give himself a little glory-fest every so often. And the FKA was certainly big among the ladies. He’d seen the icons himself. Some of the guys too. That amused him. He wondered if Lance had liked his ass. And WHOA... Chris blinked hard... that was NOT just his body thinking that was a good idea.

Lance was his pal. Lance was his golf buddy and drunken dance partner. Lance brought him cakes for his birthday. Wait a minute. Drunken dance partner. Huh. Oh wait, never mind. They all danced together when they were drunk. Besides, Lance was beautiful with yards and yards of muscles and a lovely tattoo that would taste just like... OK. Chris sat up. Tapped his finger against his forehead. That’s enough of that. Back to the melancholy, not the horny. He told himself. This was supposed to be thought provoking Christopher time with himself and his mind and working through stuff. Besides he thought, as he surveyed his baggy pants, he may be feeling little jolts but it didn’t look like it really wanted to work. Damn beer, he forgot it made him horny too. Horny but not hard. Old.

Chris sighed. He was pathetic. He was lonely. He wished he was in Ireland with his family or in New York with Joey, LA with JC, Mississippi with Lance, Hell... even on tour with Justin would be better. He wasn’t sure why he had thought this isolation business was a good thing. He took another swallow of beer, munched on some chips, sighed a lot. Finally getting back into the retrospective mood he wanted to be in. Evaluating his life. Looking for holes. Finding the cracks so he could rip them open and look inside. He needed to feel real again. Somewhere he stopped feeling real. He looked at his hand as it carried a chip to his mouth. He didn’t even look real anymore. Well that may be because his fingers were coated with Dorito dust and orange as all get out. He sniffed. The alcohol buzzing him again. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Chris thought hard about what he was supposed to be doing here. He was thinking so hard that when his cell phone rang he jumped a mile off the couch.

He dropped chips on the floor and grabbed for the phone, smearing orange all over the buttons and his face when he put it to his head.

“Kirkpatricksssss mean thingful mandrakessss!” he announced then blinked... that wasn’t right was it?

“Chris?” Lance heard the slurred speech. “Hey man... what’s going on?”

“Lansten, pal of mine. Friend of mine. Bosom of my buddy.” Chris snorted beer out his nose. “Dude... did you ever wonder if those guys from that show ever made it together. Not as guys I mean. But as a girl and a guy.”

Lance put on that oookkkaaaayyy tone in his voice. “Chris they were still both guys. You know that right? Even in drag.”

“Well yeah. What do I look like stupid? Jeez Lance make a guy feel like an idiot.” he contemplated hanging up on him.

Lance wanted to say, ‘no, you sound drunk.’ but didn’t “I was just making sure Chris. We all know you have a very active imagination for a little boy.” turning to teasing.

“Yeah well. Imagination is all you have sometimes.” Chris tilted his head back on the couch.

“So no trip to Ireland for the leprechaun?” Lance asked after a few beats. “Whatcha doing instead?”

“I got myself my very own chalet. Full stocked and comes with its own snow.” Chris squinted over at the stereo as the disk changed again. “I freaking love multi disk cd players. They make my life so much easier. Kind of like delivery services and car washes.” he pulled his feet up under him. “Or pedicurists and dog groomers.”

“Well the chalet sounds nice. Where’d you find one of those?” Lance counted to six.

“Oh somewhere in this big ole You Ess of Aaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyeeeeeee. Hey do you ever wonder who would have been Fonzie if Henry Winkler wouldn’t have been him?” Chris was saddened by the thought of the Fonz being someone else. But he wouldn’t show it. Nope. He wouldn’t.

Lance sighed, JC had said this was going to be difficult. “Hey Chris.” he waited, letting the Fonz thought flow away.

“Yeah.” Chris’ voice was low. “You didn’t have to call. I’m ok.” not quite as slurred, he had heard the dutiful friend tone. He wasn’t really as drunk as he’d pretended. Even to himself. He needed to be moreso.

“I know. I just... it’s Christmas dude. It’s about family and you’ve locked yourself in some chalet, god knows where, and you’re drunk, and...”

“And I’m a grown man, able to make my own decisions and I wanted to be alone.” The song came on the player. “Hey, you remember when we were touring over Christmas sometimes. We couldn’t afford to come back home so we’d all huddle together on the same bed on Christmas Eve so that Christmas day we wouldn’t feel so lonely when we woke up?”

“I remember.” Lance’s voice was low. He did remember. Remembered how Chris and Joey would hide the sadness under insane chases and wrapping paper fights. How JC would smile at them all but use work to get through his unhappiness. At least Lance and Justin had had their moms there. “They were the best of times and the worst of times.” he smiled as Chris laughed softly on the other end of the phone.

Chris was quiet then, humming to the end of “White Christmas” and then starting to sing softly, carefully to “I’ll be home for Christmas”. Lance joined in just as carefully, harmonizing over Chris’ higher notes. After that there was silence again, not uncomfortable silence, just an uncommon quiet that was rare around Chris. Lance closed his eyes, listening to Chris breath on the other side. Hearing little catches of breath that could be anything.

“Lance.” his voice was deeper than it should have been.

“Yeah.”

Chris took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I’m trying to do here. I just wanted to work things out you know. I really can’t complain. I’ve had everything I could ever want with the success of the group you know? I’m not even really sorry it ended. I like the life of leisure. I don’t really miss the touring, endless choreography, the busses. I do miss the screaming, you guys, the playing... the... you.” his voice trailed off towards the end.

Lance opened his eyes at that. The barely whispered last word. The silence stretched as he waited for Chris to continue. His heart was beating a little too fast to be casual. What did he mean? He had already said ‘you guys’. But then there was the other.

“I miss you too Chris.” he meant it.

Chris had to smile at that. Such a deep sincere voice Lance had. He had no clue what Chris had meant. Sure he meant the company, the talking, the clubbing, the practical jokes. But something else. Something that Chris had a hard time admitting to himself. Something he had never said to another human being. Until now. That was the problem. What Chris was trying to find out for himself. What was making him crazy in the head and angry and unhappy. He wanted Lance. Fiercely. Like he had once wanted his dream of being famous. Selfishly. He dropped his head to his chest. It wasn’t going to happen.

“Thanks Lance. Hey... listen. I’ve gotta go find the bathroom. Bladder is screaming at me and I peed on a tree last time. I can be such a heathen sometimes. I’ll call you in a few days. Merry Christmas.” his words were rushed, sad.

“Chris.” Lance spoke before he could hang up. “Chris.”

“Yeah.” it wasn’t always easy to get rid of Lance. Even when he really wanted to.

Lance licked his lips and swallowed “Let me show you.”

“What?” He was caught off guard. His voice showed his surprise.

“Let me show you how much I miss you.” Lance spoke slowly and carefully. “How much I care about you.”

“I don’t... What do you mean?” Chris shook his head, not understanding. His brain taking a slow spin around in his skull.

“I love you.” simple and to the point. “I’ve always loved you, been in love with you.” he swallowed, because if this wasn’t what Chris had meant he was going to be well and truly fucked. “In more than a just friends way. I want you. I want to be with you. Please let me.”

Chris’ mouth had dropped open at that. He nodded “Yes, please... I, I please.” He just knew his head was playing tricks on him... wait that’s what it was... a trick to find out where he was. The anger that flared up was true. “Wait... God, you know what, you suck Lance. I can’t believe that you of all people... you of ALL people would take what I said and throw it back in my face just because you want to find out where I am. Fucker.” his head and his heart hurt.

Lance was taken back by the anger. “Chris, no... I, I don’t know what you heard me say. But I love you.” he spoke firmly. He had heard the acceptance... before the anger.

“No... it won’t work Lance. I’m on to you. I don’t want to speak to you for a while.”

He stood up quickly, wobbling a bit before catching his balance, stabbing the off button on his cell with a sharp jab of his finger. He just wanted out. And fuck but he had to pee. He went to the patio again, promising himself he would find the bathroom after he emptied his bladder. The phone shrilled in his hand again as he pulled the patio door open. He hit the on button.

“Don’t want to hear from you or anyone for a while Bass. Happy fucking New Year too.” he snarled in the general vicinity of the mouthpiece, then tossed the phone on the semi snow covered table on the patio. “Let’s see if the little phone will freeze.” he cackled as he zipped his pants back up. Then hummed Bye Bye Bye as he shut the door.

He drank his way through the next day. Singing Christmas tunes at the top of his lungs, playing X-box, eating junk. Doing anything that didn’t require active thought. He’d peeked at his phone that morning after rolling out of bed. It had a thick layer of ice on it and he wondered if it would still work. He left it sitting there, closed the blinds to keep himself from wondering about it too hard. He emailed his mom to wish her Merry Christmas, telling her the phone had died a most horrible death. But he’d be getting another one soon not to worry. Then he lay on the couch watching Miracle of 34th street and The Bells of St. Mary.

When he heard the noise at the door he had drunken thoughts of bears trying to get in and get him back for all the gummi bears he’d eaten in his life. He looked around for something to beat it off with, grabbing a golf club he had been using earlier and swaying slightly he carefully moved towards the door, staying as alert as he could under the circumstances. The door flew open, a gush of snow and frigid wind flying in his face and across the floor. He was most fortunate he figured, fortunate that the bear knew how to close the door behind him. Because he wasn’t born in a barn after all. Maybe a forest.

But those thoughts were banished when he realized it wasn’t a bear. It was... his eyes widened as the hat and jacket came off. “Lance, what are you... what?” his eyes narrowed. “How did?”

“You left the phone on, had them track the call. To get a basic triangulation of your location and then called around. It apparently doesn’t take much to find anyone anymore.” He hung up his jacket in the closet.

Chris shook his head. “Dude, you’ve watched The Matrix TOO many times.” still standing there with the golf club at the ready.

“Actually the ‘Net with traces of Matrix.” Lance reached up to take the club away. “Where’s the heat in this place? It’s freezing.” he walked into the living room. “That’s ok, I’ll just get warm picking up all this crap.” The calm was frazzled a little by worry, and cold and his pain in the ass friend.

“Why are you here?” Chris sighed, a little pissed, a little pleased. He followed Lance to the kitchen.

“We have an unfinished conversation. Why don’t you go shower and I’ll cook something.” he held up a hand. “No protests. You stink. You’re drunk. Go.”

Chris tried to think of something righteous to say. Something witty. Something snarky even. Due to the amount of alcohol he had in his system he decided he ha dnothing and also that a shower sounded really good. Turning on his heel he walked out and pulled out clean clothes, showered and brushed his teeth. Forgoing shaving for the sake of keeping his skin and decent blood levels in his body he wandered back out to the living room. It was somewhat warmer. A fire crackled in the fireplace and something was actually already smelling really good from the kitchen. He fought with himself for a few minutes about whether to sit on the couch or go into the kitchen. He casually wandered toward the kitchen and peeked around the corner. Lance was standing with him back to him, flipping something in a pan.

“Grilled cheese.” Lance said without even turning around. “Tomato soup. It’s all I could do on short notice.”

Chris swallowed. “That’s good though. My...” he stopped.

“Favorite, I know.” he nodded to the table. “Sit.”

“I wish you would stop ordering me around. I didn’t invite you here.” Chris was full of little bursts of temper.

“I know.” Lance brought the soup over to the table and then the plate of sandwiches. “I wanted to come.” he was eye level with Chris now.

Chris’ eyes opened as Lance stepped into his personal space. Mouth opened as Lance’s slanted over his. Slow and sweet as molasses their lips lingered together. Only touching at that one place. Eyes closed, breathing in the scent of each other as they tasted for the first time. Drawing away when the feeling got too much, when things needed to be said.

“I’ve wanted to do that a long time too.” Lance looked at him a little unsure until Chris smiled.

“Me too. Do it again later?”

“I will.” Lance’s own smile was hundred watt.

Chris ate with the chorus of 'I will' in his head. That’s all the answer he needed.


End file.
